“You’re right—that’s pretty scary. Was it daytime or nighttime in this dream?”
“It was night, and it was cold.”
“Do you remember where you were going? Where were you running to?”
The answer seemed to pop into his head. “Home.”
“Where’s home?”
“I don’t know.”
She slipped an arm around his shoulder. “Well, don’t worry; you’re awake now. No more alligators.”
He leaned his head into her shoulder, and they sat there quietly. The door was still open, making the truck cold, but she didn’t care. The tiny pond in front of the truck had whitecaps. The trees twisted like dancers. Out in the distance of the field, she saw a deer picking its way through the golden underbrush. It looked young, hardly able to stand on its own. She didn’t see a mother deer anywhere around.
Lisa thought about Purdue’s dream. Something about it made her sad. She realized that she felt a little forlorn hearing him talk about going home. It was good, it was inevitable, it was what had to happen, but it reminded her that at the end of the day, Purdue had a place to be that wasn’t with her.
His name, whatever it was, was not Purdue.
“The woman in the house told me some things,” Lisa said.
“What did she say?”
“She said her husband’s truck made its last stop at the hospital in Thief River Falls. Is that where you sneaked into the back? Is it possible you were a patient at the hospital? Because if you were, then we should get you back there right away.”
Purdue shook his head. “People die in the hospital,” he told her, which was the same thing he’d said before.
“Yes, I understand, but is that where you were? Did someone take you there after you got hurt?”
“I already told you. I don’t know!”
But this time, he looked like a boy who was keeping secrets from her. A boy who was lying. She wondered how much of his memory loss was an act and whether, for some reason, he was hiding what had really happened to him.
“Mrs. Lancaster also told me that the police were looking for a criminal,” Lisa went on. “A man who hurts kids and takes them away from their families. Do you know anyone like that? Is it possible you’re here because of a man like that? If you remember, it’s okay to tell me. Really. He can’t hurt you while you’re with me.”
“But I don’t,” he protested. “I don’t remember.”
Lisa let the silence draw out before she said anything more. Then she spoke quietly. “I need to take you to the police, Purdue. It’s time. I should have done it last night.”
“No!” The boy looked close to crying again. “No, if you do that, they’ll kill me. I told you!”
“I won’t let that happen.”
“Don’t let me go, Lisa. Please. Keep me with you. I want to stay with you!”
He hugged her again, even more tightly than before, and she melted at the idea that he didn’t want to let go of her. She realized that she didn’t want to let go of him, either. Not just yet. For now, they would stick together.
“Well, I’d still like to get some more answers about what’s going on. If that takes another couple of hours, so be it. I haven’t heard anything from Laurel, but I thought of someone else who may be able to help us. I’m going to call him.”
“Who is he?” Purdue asked.
“He works for the FBI in Minneapolis. His name is Will Woolwich. I haven’t talked to him in a long time, but I think he’ll remember me. Back when I was doing research for my very first book, I met with him, and he helped me a lot. He gave me behind-the-scenes information about how they deal with their cases. I was just a nobody then, a wannabe writer, so I was very grateful.”
She didn’t add that she’d always suspected that Will was interested in her and that his feelings had contributed to the access he gave her. She’d been a young, pretty twenty-seven-year-old back then, sharp witted and sharp tongued. Will was tall, black, and skinny, a former college basketball player. He was handsome in his perfect suit, the way all the feds were. If she’d been available, she might have thought about dating him, but by the time she met Will, she was already engaged to Danny.
Lisa booted up her phone. She’d kept Will in her contacts all these years, although she’d never reached out to him again. She wondered if his number had changed, but when she dialed him, he answered on the first ring.
“Special Agent Woolwich,” he said, his silky voice still familiar, still conjuring the image of him in her mind.
“Agent Woolwich,” she said with a slight hesitation. “It’s Lisa Power calling.”
There was a pregnant pause on the line. When he spoke again, she could hear the same thing she’d heard in his voice all those years ago. Interest. It gave her the tiniest spark of satisfaction to know she could still elicit that reaction.
“Lisa Power,” Will replied. “Wow, how long has it been? Ten, eleven years now, right?”
“Something like that.”
“You’ve done well for yourself. I’m proud of you. I remember this twenty-something girl telling me all about how she was going to write thrillers for a living, and I thought to myself, Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
“Well, you were very nice to that girl. You helped me a lot.”
“It was my pleasure. I’ve followed your career, you know. I’ve read all your books. They’re very good.”
“Thank you. I’m honored.”
“I hear there’s going to be a movie, too.”
“Next summer, hopefully. Reese tells me the filming is done. She says she’s happy with it, so that has to be a good thing, right? I can’t decide whether to see it or not. Writers always tend to be the biggest critics when their work shows up on-screen. I don’t want to be that person.”
“I’ll see it and tell you how it is.”
Lisa smiled. “Thanks.”
“Anyway, I don’t suppose this is a social call. What can I do for you? Are you doing research on a new book?”
“No, not this time. Actually, I don’t know whether you can help me or not, but I don’t feel comfortable going to the local police about this yet. I wasn’t sure who else to talk to, so I called you.”
His voice turned instantly serious. “What’s going on?”
Lisa glanced across the pickup truck at Purdue. “I was wondering if you’d heard anything about a manhunt underway in Pennington or Kittson Counties involving a human trafficking operation. I was told the police are searching for someone. A fugitive of some kind.”
“A manhunt? I don’t know anything about that off the top of my head, but that wouldn’t be my area of focus. I’m mostly in financial crimes these days.”
She was disappointed. “Yes, I understand.”
“Why can’t you talk to the local cops?”
“It’s a little hard to explain. The story about the manhunt came from the local police, and I’m just not—I just don’t know whether to trust what I’ve been told.”
He didn’t push her for details, and she was grateful. “Well, let me look into it, and I’ll call you back. It may take me some time to get answers out of the local field office, and depending on what I find, there may well be things I’m not able to share if we’re talking about an active investigation. But I’ll do what I can.”